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May 2012

I feel different today than I did a year ago. It's not just that I'm a year older. I'm a decade wiser. Unfortunately, the price of wisdom is often a painful life experience. In my case, it was hitting burn out last summer.

My biggest concern at the start of this year was this:

After regaining my mojo, how would I prevent myself from old patterns and habits kicking in and taking me down the same path to burnout?

Several things have helped. I offer this list as a starting point if you are finding yourself struggling with similar challenges:

Create a framework for understanding the path to burnout and making course corrections. My friend, Richard Smith, recently did a webinar on burning out, helping participants identify symptoms and create their own action plan for reversing the downward trend. I wrote about my take-aways from the webinar in my new career blog in a post titled, "Breaking the Cycle of Burning Out". I've known Richard for nearly a decade. I'm thrilled he started blogging this year, as he has so much to share, in a way that is not preachy, but rather in the context of a fellow traveler. Reading his blog, Searcher-Seeker is like sitting down to a kitchen table for a conversation with an old friend. A friend who is wise enough to provide more questions than advice.

Work smarter. I became curious as to how the brain works, having experienced my brain as a much more limited resource while recovering. (My brain literally "became tired" before the end of the day.) I educated myself with books. Two in particular stand out--Your Brain at Work and The Willpower Instinct. Once I read these books, I realized that sometimes, the odds are stacked against me. So I can go easy on myself, take a break, and rein in my ambitions--all in service to getting more done, with better results.

Increase awareness of patterns that have sabotaged you in the past. Learn how to "get into your flow" on a consistent basis. I enrolled in a six-month coaching program with Michele McHall, who has helped me identify the "Racehorse" that has driven me so relentlessly in the past. Slowly, I am changing my habits of thinking and behaving and nurturing parts of me that have been disconnected and neglected. One of the unexpected benefits is that my relationship with time is changing. Things take less time than I think they will. When I'm in the flow, I have more time throughout the day for the other parts of my life, not just my biz. I'm moving towards Healthy Wholeness, my theme for this year. It has taken intentional practice along with increased self-awareness to get here, as well as a loving guide on the journey. I'm glad I'm making the effort.

Align your work with the life you want. You would think this would be a no-brainer me, after being on my own for nearly a decade. But just like a ship can drift just a few degrees off of a planned route, and find itself thousands of miles later in a strange place, it can be the same with businesses. My business coach, Pamela Fischer, has helped me find my sweet spot as an entrepreneur, and integrate my life with my work. Starting from the core of who I am, and then adding on savvy business consulting, has made a huge difference in how I work today. My work with Pamela has given me hope that my efforts will lead to a more sustainable business, one that allows for both a healthy income and a enjoyable lifestyle. One does not have to be sacrificed in service to the other.

Live a different life, at a different pace. I like to tell people that it feels as if I'm wired differently now. I don't think I could go at the same pace I did before burning out. I also know that this new lifestyle is about giving priority to the things that keep me in balance--long walks, time with my family, naps, unscheduled blocks of time in my calendar, blogging, gardening, reading. And more importantly, I have confidence and faith. The confidence to work at a different pace and the faith that whatever doesn't get done today, is better left undone until tomorrow. Or the next week. It all works out.

One year later, I am so much better off. I'm calmer. My days are more enjoyable. I'm in the flow more consistently. I'm living more on purpose.

Many thanks to not just Richard, Michele, and Pamela, but the many other friends and family who have helped me on my journey. I'm grateful.

My backyard serves as a refuge, an every day sanctuary from the outside world. Literally on the other side of the fence, is a public sidewalk, a well-trafficked street, and the entrance to a heavily used baseball field. But all of this fades away when I'm wandering in my familiar greenscape. It's where, as a gardener, I can experiment with perennials, watch new growth throughout the summer and over seasons, and play with an organic palette of colors and textures. Something remarkable is happening all the time, if I'm present to the moment.

In the summer, I hear the sound of rustling aspen leaves, moved by a morning breeze. I see the fluttering of happy wings of a butterfly backlit by the sun. I am delighted to find a few strawberries ready to be picked, hidden red treasures under thick green leaves.

In the fall, I watch for the transformation from green to gold to red, and the space left behind when the leaves drop from their summer perch. I speculate which green tomatoes will beat the clock and ripen before the first hard frost, or more likely, where I live, the first snowfall.

In the winter, there is grace and elegance in a heavy winter blanket. I am thrilled to see the contrast between the white snow, brown trunks, and blue skies after Old Man Winter has blown through. Crystals, with hardly any mass, are magically held in place on thin limbs, until the sun begins to dissolve the trees' temporary adornment. Droplets, falling off sagging branches, add a calming sound to the landscape.

In the spring, I smile at the sight of tiny light green leaves against the deep red twigs of dogwood bushes. Later, I immerse myself in the perfume of purple hyacinth and blooms of delicate flowering bushes. I wait for colors to pop in different parts of the yard, as tulips and irises and roses make their grand entrance into the world.

My love affair with backyards goes back to my childhood.

I recently came upon this essay, written during a writing group that I attended several years ago. We were asked to write about "moments of the Divine" and here's what I wrote (with a bit of editing as I re-type my long hand):

"Moments of the Divine...brings me back to the small house in a 1950's subdivision, three bedrooms, with thin walls and not much insulation, a functional kitchen and living room, without the adornment of a foyer or entryway. The house bows not to the front steps or the street view, but to the backyard. The yard felt secluded, literally enclosed by a picket fence painted white, built by my father, plank nailed to plank, pointed on top to keep intruders out and children in. Photo by John-Morgan

That backyard was a safe world of play and harvest. An apple tree on the right side was the centerpiece of the yard, nurtured by my parents who were loving gardeners/guardians. A garden, with raised beds, enclosed by a chain link fence, occupied the back left corner. And in the right back corner, was a small peach tree, redolent in the summer with gems of fruit.

As a small child, the sandbox, just off the patio, was heaven. It was defined by a poured concrete border and enhanced with large truck tires that served as round rubber benches. I would play for hours, content.

In that backyard, there was nothing that could harm you. Scrapes healed quickly. Imagination ran wild. Sand became the drafting table for life.

In that backyard, high up in the apple tree, I could be hidden from the rest of the world--not just from neighborhood kids, but from my brothers and sister and parents. Surrounded by small bumpy-shaped apples and coarse green leaves, and held in place by thick branches stretching out in every direction, it was my secret place to retreat to.

This refuge, this mini-world, was not the real world. And that's okay.

Everyone should have such a place, whether real or imaginary, that allows you to feel safe and warm."

It's seductive to think that the Divine will show up during "peak" moments--on a vacation in an exotic locale or at a 50th birthday party or upon achieving a milestone at work. But I haven't found that to be the case. The Divine is here and now, in this ordinary, yet extraordinary moment. Photo by Friar's Balsam

My backyard, as a child and now, serves as a portal to moments of the Divine--where I can see the magic in my everyday world, where my soul is rejuvenated, and my ego feels secure.

What serves as a sanctuary for you, to recharge and interact with the Divine? Where do you meet the Divine?

After my experience with burnout last summer, I've had a fascination with how the brain works. At my lowest point last year, I could feel how limited my capacity was to take in new information. I can still remember one afternoon going into a dark, quiet room in our basement, lying down on a pillow, and waiting for my brain to recover.

While I took three pages of notes from the book, here are my take-aways that have made a difference for me:

Build recovery time into the day. The brain is an energy hog, dipping into limited resources. Newness doesn't help. It's why you can find yourself exhausted at the end of the day when you are learning a new skill or coming up to speed with a new job. Knowing this has helped me to respect my own limitations and take a break when I feel the need. In addition, I no longer schedule back-to-back-to-back appointments, hoping to cram as much into the day as possible. Instead, I purposely leave large blocks of time open and plan my work around 60-90 minutes sprints, focused on a single task.

Work your hardest problems when conditions are optimal for your brain. The prefrontal cortex is more like a fine-tuned Ferrari than a Mack truck. The prefrontal cortex is used heavily in our professional life--helping us make decisions, prioritize, compare, and analyze. (BTW--prioritizing is one of the activities that takes the most energy. Do it at the beginning of the day.) Peak performance requires the right conditions in terms of level of stress (not too much and not too little), removal of distractions, and adequate energy for attention. This means doing my hardest work in the morning, when I'm fresh, and when I feel like I'm "in the flow". If I'm feeling tired or anxious or pre-occupied, I leave my most challenging "to-do" for another day (or after taking a nap!) Photo by Andrew J. Sutherland.

If you run into a roadblock, don't persist or resist. I'm sure we've all had this experience--the harder you work on an impasse, the more muddled it gets. Physiologically, resolving an impasse requires letting the brain idle, because it reduces the activation of wrong answers. (It's a painful and familiar conversation: "The answer is not 4. Why isn't it 4? How could it not be 4? Maybe I should try once more to see if it comes out 4...")

Instead, take a break. Having a new insight involves hearing subtle signals--taking a whisper or an inkling and focusing on that. To do this requires having a quiet mind, with minimum electrical activity. Instead of continuing to think about the problem, engage other parts of your body or your brain (e.g., eye-to-hand coordination, fine motor skills.) Do activities that will allow you to see another perspective. I particularly like this strategy when I run into technical difficulties--my computer freezes, a download doesn't work, or my printer keeps returning an error. This happened recently when I needed to download software for a webinar I was giving to a corporate client. The download didn't seem to be working and I couldn't get the webcam on my end to work. After a brief walk around the neighborhood, I broke through my own logjam of thinking and realized that I had not rebooted my computer after the download. It worked. Photo by jmayer1129

Write things down. It's better to use the brain to interact with information rather than trying to store informaiton. Continuing with the theme of a fine-tuned Ferrari, the prefrontal cortex has an amazingly small capacity for holding more than one concept in memory at the same time. In fact, it's downright pitiful, compared to what we can hold with plain paper and pencil, let alone our iPhone. Studies show that the brain can hold no more than 4 concepts at a time in memory and the more complex the concepts, the worse it gets. Give me four things to buy at the grocery store. If I have to remember to stop at the cleaners on the way there, chances are I'll forget one of the items by the time I get to the check out lane. Photo by quacktaculous

Don't multi-task. If you do, expect that your brain will get a lot "dumber". Trying to do multiple tasks that require attention means a huge drop off in accuracy and/or performance. It's as if your brain just regressed from college level to kindergarten, or mastery to novice. I think of this every time I'm tempted to multi-task on a phone call. (If you are a coaching client, don't worry. I make it a rule never to multi-task when coaching.) According to the author, multi-tasking only works if you are executing automatic embedded routines with active thinking tasks. For example, driving to work and thinking about what you will say in a status report for your boss. Taking a new route to work or moving to a new city where the streets are unfamiliar? Better focus on driving if you don't want to take a wrong turn.

Turn enemies into friends. This is one of the most fascinating things I learned. The brain quickly classifies strangers as "friend" or "foe". In the absence of positive cues, your brain defaults to classifying a stranger as "foe".

I experienced this firsthand when I went to my dentist's office to get a crown on my tooth. Just before the appointment, my dentist--the one I had known for the last twenty years--retired and sold his practice to two brothers. Intellectually, I knew that my old dentist had picked his successors carefully. But emotionally, my brain was still saying "Foe! Foe! Foe!" I found myself in the dentist's chair tensing up as the assistant was prepping me for the crown, before meeting the new dentist. Remembering the "foe" default, I mentioned to the assistant that I was nervous. She said something to the dentist and being sensitive to taking over an existing practice, he sat down and said, "I would be nervous, too. Let me tell you about myself, my work, and the process of deciding that this practice was a fit." After a few minutes, my brain was registering, "Friend. Ahh...." Photo by kingeroos.

I used to be driven by the challenge of "how much I can get done", even if it meant driving myself into the ground. Now, I see that the challenge is getting the right things done, in a way that uses my energy wisely.

How are you making the best use of your brain?

For more info about David Rock's work and the concepts from the book, watch the following GoogleTech Talk: